Harry Potter and the Apocalypse
by stormyabyss
Summary: Harry must face his destiny before time runs out. What will he do when his friends are taken away from him? His journey to the ends of the world will leave him bitter and hurt, but there will always be someone he can keep by his side. Hermione.
1. The Scene Before Them

**Disclaimer: All characters and items of the magical world belong to the talented Mrs. J. K. Rowling**

**I only own parts of the plot of the story **

**Title: Harry Potter and the Apocalypse**

**Author: stormyabyss**

**Rating: T**

**Genre: Romance/Adventure/Action**

**Setting: Post-Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince**

**Summary: Harry Potter travels to the ends of the world to finally fulfill his destiny. Along his journey, he breaks and makes new relationships as his feelings for Hermione deepen.**

**A/N: This is a romance fanfic, but there is also a lot of action and adventure included. I warn you now, if you don't like the whole Hermione and Harry pairing, then don't even bother reading. I don't want to be flamed. Enjoy. **

**Constructive criticism is always welcomed. **

* * *

**Chapter I: The Scene before Them**

"Life is the art of being well deceived; and in order that the deception may succeed it must be habitual and uninterrupted. "  
**-**William Hazlitt

* * *

A haunted breeze swept by, ruffling the withering leaves nearby. Streetlights flicked intermittently on and off, attracting a swarm of miniscule mosquitoes and fireflies. Besides the soft hooting of the night birds, the night seemed dead itself. Only a slight sliver of light escaped from a lamppost near the end of the street, but its resilience was quickly squashed by shadows emerging from the ragged bushes.

"I know it's here. I can feel it," a hoarse voice quaked through the gaps of the hood. "We have to be careful. If anything, I will feel much better if you two stay here while I go inside and search for any clues." This stranger muttered further sounds, although they sounded like gibberish.

"Harry, if you ever suggest that again, I will hex you into next week…" murmured a dangerously tense, feminine voice.

"Ya mate, you can't get away from us that easily. Like Hermione said, she'll hex you into next week if you have those thoughts ever again," whispered a rough voice.

Harry glared under his hood, just about ready to whirl on his friends for being so insistent. Right then, a low, yet distinct crack echoed across the road as the darkness opened to reveal two figures. They were both equally clad in dark robes; one figure had a curvy hunchback, while the other stood in such a manner that would convey nothing but arrogance.

The shorter of the two broke out in a whimper, "Why are we here? I don't want any aurors on our tails."

"Shut up or I will make sure you won't _have_ a tail for the aurors to follow," hissed the tall, shrouded figure. "If you even think of running away, which of course I doubt you're competent enough to, I will make sure the dark lord saves you a few curses."

"I…," the puny figure spluttered pathetically, "but…I…," the figure spilt a string of incoherent whimpers, "of course I wouldn't run away. Severus, I am the dark lord's most loyal servant."

Severus, the companion, jeered at the latter comment, "Wormtail, you're as pathetic as you look. The day you become the dark lord's most loyal servant will be the day all his other servants have been killed. And even then, I doubt you will still be alive. Even if you're as dense as Potter, you should still know that master has only kept you so he can dispose of your pitiable life later."

Wormtail shrunk significantly at this comment, but to Harry, it seemed hardly possible for the man's back was already so hunched. Harry crouched further into the shadows of the bushes, which in turn pushed Ron slightly towards the left. He deftly maneuvered his head towards one side to obtain a better view of the scene before him.

"Mate…I don't think it's such a good idea to…" Ron was cut off with a swift glare from the corner of Harry's eyes.

"Shush, Ron. I want to hear what they're saying," muttered a near to inaudible Harry.

Harry craned his head slightly upwards, gaining better access in his espionage. He could see Wormtail crouching over something on the ground, while Snape was holding his wand over the place Wormtail was looking at. Snape lowered his wand a bit as he dug his hands into the pockets of his robes, pulling out two small vials with a glutinous, foul-looking liquid. He thrust one of the vials into Wormtail's outstretched hands and he kept the other to himself.

"Now, remember what you are supposed to do. We will pose as two stray wizards who just happened to stumble upon the ruins of the cottage while searching for news on the Potter kid. The Knight bus will come and we'll continue from there. Must I remind you that if you so much as slip a word of our true identities to anyone, I will murder you on the spot."

"I won't Severus…I won't, I promise."

"Your promise is as empty as your life. Now drink that potion so we can start."

Wormtail uncorked his vial and with slight repugnance and fear, he finally downed its contents after a menacing look from Snape.

As the contents of the potion traveled down and took its effect, Wormtail fell violently to the ground, holding his stomach and gasping for breath as if his life depended on it. His face turned a sickeningly livid, white hue as his back arched violently backwards. The wispy, gray hairs on his head stood slowly upwards as his body started to contort in ghastly gruesome proportions. The black robe clinging to his skin violently ripped as his back became straighter and straighter. His chubby legs grew thinner and the plump figure he was before had completely vanished, only to be replaced by a middle-aged male. Instead of the watery eyes that fit the old Wormtail, this new male had beads of hawk-like yellow embedded in his gaunt features.

"You look as absolutely ridiculous as you were before. Although I am grateful for being spared the urge to gag every time I am forced to look at you, even if it's only temporary. Now, we will start after I take the potion too."

With that, Snape unsealed his vial and after flashing a narcissistic smirk, he poured the content of the vial into his opened mouth. As the potion slithered its way down his throat, Snape drew his face into an inscrutable expression of pain and resistance. His black hair, even greasier than usual, shortened slightly into little brown spikes on his head while his extremities grew even lengthier. The crooked nose attached to his face now stood up straighter as his beady, black eyes turned into specks of pale vulture-like yellow. The robe that covered his body slowly expanded as Snape grew in length and width. Only minutes afterwards, on the very spot that Severus Snape had positioned himself, there stood a tall, and equally smug man of great proportion.

Snape turned and reflected his new appearance, indulging it with his vulture eyes. "I must say, the pathetic wizard I stole the piece of hair from doesn't compare to my old self at all. Still, I look centuries better than you, Wormtail."

"Let's start now. I don't want to be on this street any longer."

"Dear, dear…Wormtail, are you afraid of this street, or are you really afraid of the memories it holds? Do you think the ghosts of late Potter and his mudblood of a wife will come back to avenge themselves? I do not think they would waste their time coming back to kill you, even if you did betray their trivial friendship. As you well know, your once living friend, James Potter, was nothing more than empty trash. I am surprised that even his overly-inflated head stood properly on his neck. Only you would associate yourself with dirty bloods in the likes of Potter and his mudblood-loving clan. To say the least, I will be amazed if Potter's son does not run off with that bucktooth mudblood."

"Hermione Granger, you mean."

"Be it who it is. I could care less if it were some muggle tramp. Now quiet down so we can begin."

Upon hearing this, Harry's already simmering blood practically burst his head open and he was about to jump forth from the bush just to wipe that stupid grin off of Snape's face. He absolutely despised Snape for insulting his parents like that, but it was the last straw for him when that egotistic bloke called Hermione a mudblood.

"How dare he…" venom laced every single one of Harry's syllables.

"No, Harry. Don't blow our cover. You know he's not worth it." Hermione tried to soothe his hot temper by whispering softly in his ears, all the while rubbing his arms slightly. Ever since Dumbledore's death, Harry's temper had been flaring even with the slightest provocation. No one dared to approach him without a viable cause unless they were willing to risk their well-being.

Harry shivered under Hermione's touch, even if it was but a slight rub. He could still feel her hot breath stinging his ears, making even his insides shiver with a burning emotion—whatever it was, he had not the slightest idea. What am I doing? What is she doing? He panicked to himself.

He recalled that since Dumbledore's death, he had been growing distant from everyone. He neither talked nor looked at anyone in the slightest, not even Ginny. Ginny…he thought…he did miss her, but then he didn't. What is happening here? Ron would often mention how Ginny had been missing him a lot, but Harry neither listened nor cared in the least bit. Why…?

No one dared annoy him over the summer, but there was a particular someone who didn't fit into this category of "no one." Hermione Granger. Hermione Granger. Hermione Granger. She was the only person who dared approach him at all this summer; even Ron with his oblivious nature knew to leave Harry alone. At the beginning of summer, Hermione would sometimes walk up to him and attempt to make conversation. She even tried to hug him…anyways, to say the least, he pushed her away and once, he even told her to sod off.

Harry tried to focus on the mission before him, but neither his mental willingness nor his attempts to pinch himself to reality surpassed. "Bloody…"

His rude comments and cold demeanor were to no avail as they only made her more persistent. In the end, either out of annoyance or other obscure reasons even he didn't know, Harry finally didn't mind having her around to talk with. They would often just sit around, lounging on the edge of grassy meadows behind the Burrow, or they would sit across from each other in the woods, covered under the veils of the trees surrounding them.

Once, when they were sprawled on the grass of the fields behind the Burrow, Hermione stirred and turned towards him with a burning look—a look of victory almost. Harry recalled how she sat up and stared off awhile before turning back to him. He could remember that day as if it were in front of him…


	2. The Memory

**Disclaimer: All characters and items of the magical world belong to the talented Mrs. J. K. Rowling. ****I only own parts of the plot of the story **

**Title: Harry Potter and the Apocalypse**

**Author: stormyabyss**

**Rating: T**

**Genre: Romance/Adventure/Action**

**Setting: Post-Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince**

**Summary: Harry Potter travels to the ends of the world to finally fulfill his destiny. Along his journey, he breaks and makes new relationships as his feelings for Hermione deepen.**

**A/N: Hope the first chapter wasn't too bad. This chapter will be much more interesting, or at least it is in my view. Once again, enjoy.**

**By the way, I want to thank Zareefe for being my first reviewer. **

* * *

**Chapter II: The Memory**

"The best proof of love is trust. "  
-Joyce Brothers

* * *

_Hermione stared off in the distance as the wind picked up slightly and swept some strands of hair across her softly glowing face. Harry gazed at her, but particularly at her eyes—her warm, cinnamon-colored eyes—for somehow he felt drawn to those chocolate orbs as if they held certain gravity in their own right. She looked deep in thought, but then, he chuckled to himself, when had his Hermione Granger ever been without deep thoughts. Wait…what did he just say? His Hermione Granger? His Hermione Granger? _

_In his reverie, Harry failed to notice that Hermione had turned back to look at him. Only after she spoke up did he realize how intently he had been staring at her._

"_Harry…Harry…Harry!"_

"_What the…"_

"_Harry! I just asked you why you were looking at me that way?"_

"_What way? I wasn't looking at you in any way. I don't think I was even looking at you." Harry grew a bright red, and spluttered pathetically. He tried to come up with some excuse for his unreserved audaciousness, but somehow, his head had seemed to possess no excuses, or even thoughts at all. _

"_Harry...," Hermione sighed exasperatedly, "never mind. Anyways, did you hear what I was trying to tell you?"_

"_Ummm, no, not quite. But I'm listening now, if you want to try telling me again?"_

"_Fine…," she huffed in a clearly annoyed manner. "I was just saying how Ron and I broke up because"_

_Before she could continue on with her explanation, Harry had cut her off. He was shocked to say the least. He didn't know why her comment bothered him so much, but it did. "I didn't even know you two were dating. You two were dating? Wait…why didn't anyone bother to tell me? You two were dating? Oh wait, everyone was too afraid to come near me. I understand…I completely understand."_

"_Harry, will you be quiet. Ron and I never dated…"_

_Hermione was cut off yet again as Harry spun into another string of questions and blabbering. He didn't understand what she was trying to say. They didn't date, yet they broke up. He always thought that the latter could not happen without the former. "How can you two break up when you weren't even together in the first place. Wait, is this all a joke?"_

"_Harry, quit interrupting me. The next time you interrupt me, I will stuff your mouth with a handful of grass, alright?" Hermione by now was quite annoyed with Harry's overly childish act, but nonetheless, she was willing to put up with some of it if he continued to listen._

"_All right. Sorry," Harry muttered "go ahead, I'm listening."_

_Hermione eyed him unconvincingly but continued regardless. "Well, before you rudely interrupted me twice, I was saying how Ron and I broke up. He asked me out on a date and I accepted. So, we…" Hermione stopped in mid-sentence when she saw Harry raise his hand. "What are you doing, Harry? Didn't I warn you what would happen if you interrupted me again?" she sighed._

_Harry shook his head from side to side. "I'm not interrupting you, Hermione."_

"_Then why is your hand raised?"_

"_Well, you told me I can't interrupt you again."_

"_I don't see your point…"_

"_Well, I have a question, so instead of interrupting you, I have my hand raised to ask you for permission to talk."_

_Hermione barely suppressed a sigh and a roll of her eyes—although, she did find it quite funny that Harry thought to raise his hands for permission to talk. Honestly, he is more like a kid with each passing day. "Harry, we are not in a kindergarten classroom. I assure you you don't need to raise your hands to talk."_

"_Just to be sure, Hermione. I don't exactly fancy the taste of worm-ridden grass in my mouth."_

_Hermione giggled lightly at his comment. "Alright…what do you want to ask me?"_

"_Well, when did Ron ask you out on a date?"_

"_Oh, sorry I didn't mention it to you earlier. He asked me just a week ago if I wanted to go see a quidditch game with him. Ron would've ask you also, but seeing as how you never talked…"_

"_Never mind that. Just go on"_

"_Anyways, I went with him to the quidditch game two days ago when you were meeting with Professor McGonagall at Hogwarts. I intended to go to the game just as friends, but I think Ron planned to go somewhere to eat afterwards since you weren't there. Well, after the game, Ron asked me out to dinner. I accepted since you know how I…well…how I had a crush on him..."_

_Harry didn't fail to notice how she said she "had a crush" and not how she "has a crush."_

"_We went to eat at the Leaky Cauldron. Dinner was alright…I guess. It was a bit, no actually, it was extremely awkward. Ron would try at conversation, but would fail miserably. I attempted some words, but failed similarly. After dinner, we apparated back to the Burrow. In front of the Burrow, Ron leaned forward…"_

_Harry's insides squirmed restlessly and his mind was set to overdrive—why…he had no idea._

"…_and I knew he was about to kiss me. To say I panicked is a clear understatement. I didn't know why just then because I thought I liked him in that way. Well, he leaned in, but then just decided to brush his lips on my cheeks. His face burned a bright red and I don't know…everything just felt very suffocating right then…"_

_Harry waited on baited breath…_

"…_I looked up to see Ron trying to form words in his mouth. Finally, he managed to say what was on his mind. "Hermione, thanks for going out with me. I didn't know what it would be like. I mean, it was really nice, but, did you think it was a bit, well, weird feeling?" To my relief, I didn't feel sadden by his comment at all, but I felt like euphoria had just ripped open inside me. I told him how it was well, according to his terminology, 'weird feeling.' Ron then said, "Yeah. I guess you and I would have never worked out. I mean, we fight all the time and stuff and it was really weird, you know? I guess that's why I couldn't bring myself to kiss you." Well, I smiled at this and told him how it was okay since I felt the same way. Ron grinned and then he said how I would do loads better with…"_

_Harry was practically choking for air, but he fought against the urge to breathe. He had to hear what Hermione had to say next._

"…_well, he just said some more things. Anyways, we exchanged goodnights and parted to our separate rooms afterwards."_

"_I am sorry it didn't work out between you and Ron." Harry didn't know if he felt truly sorry since what he was feeling just then, pure ecstasy, couldn't exactly be categorized as remorse. _

"_No…I know it could have never worked out. He and I are just way to different, and besides, we fight entirely way too much. Either I would bite his head off, or he would reduce me to tears, if we did end up together. Honestly Harry, I am glad that Ron asked me out..."_

_Harry made a slight squeak at her comment. Didn't she just say that they would have never worked out? he thought to himself._

"… _If he didn't, I might not have been able to work out my feelings. I would forever chase someone whom I was destined to not be involved with in any way. That would have been a complete waste of time…don't you think so too, Harry?"_

_Harry, at that moment was lost in his own thoughts, and thus, he didn't hear Hermione._

"_Harry, did you stop listening to me again?"_

"_Oh, sorry Hermione. What did you say?"_

"_Never mind what I said. Well, I guess my entire sixth year was a waste. For me and for Ron…" Hermione said in a reflective manner, "I wonder what could have happen if I knew that I never did like Ron in that way, but rather, I was just infatuated with him. Silly really when I think about it.."_

"_Ya…silly…" Harry was immersed in his whirlwind of thoughts. What would have happen if Hermione and Ron were not so stupid? What would have happen…? Could he and Hermione have had…"He was interrupted in his train of thoughts by Hermione's concerned voice._

"_Harry…did you know that Ginny went out to dinner with Dean last night?" Hermione wasn't particularly keen to broach this certain subject, but she knew she wasn't doing Harry any justice by hiding the truth from him._

_Harry stared off, focusing on the trees behind Hermione. The sun was now slowly descending below the horizon, casting a soft glow on the inhabitants below it. Harry just sat there upon hearing her comment; he didn't know what to say really. He didn't even know if he was exactly depressed at the bit of news. The question that was nagging him, the question that had been occupying his mind ever since Dumbledore's funeral, the question that Hermione had just forced him to recall...Does he feel anything for Ginny any longer? Did he ever feel anything for Ginny at all, or was it just his rampaging hormones?_

"_Harry…you didn't answer me."_

"_I…I didn't know."_

_Hermione looked carefully at Harry. She reached out and took his hands lightly in hers. "I am sorry I brought up the subject. I…"_

_Harry felt highly self-conscious at her touch, even if were a friendly one. "No, Hermione. It's alright. I don't think it really matters. In fact, I don't think it really matters at all. I have been thinking a lot lately…I mean…with all the time I have been alone, I have been forced to reflect on many things. Hermione, I don't think I ever felt anything for Ginny. I know I never felt anything for Ginny. I couldn't, because if I did, I wouldn't be talking to you about it right now."_

_Hermione knew he told the truth. She could see it in his eyes, his deep, emerald eyes. _

"_Thanks for talking to me 'Mione. Thanks for just being with me. I don't know what I would do without you..."_

_Hermione honestly didn't know what to say. She felt so touched at his comment, and especially at a particular word. "You called me 'Mione." She whispered softly._

_He looked back at her with pink etching at his cheeks. "Ya…I guess I did. I won't again if you don't want me to 'Mione. Oh sorry… I didn't mean to…it just slipped…"_

"_No Harry. I love it. 'Mione. It has a certain ring to it, don't you think so?"_

"'_Mione. Ya…I guess it does have a ring to it.." Harry smiled gently—a smile that was often rare on his face these days. From then on, whenever the two were alone together, Harry would always use his new nickname for her. "'Mione…'Mione…"_


	3. The Past Beginning

**Disclaimer: All characters and items of the magical world belong to the talented Mrs. J. K. Rowling**

**I only own parts of the plot of the story **

**Title: Harry Potter and the Apocalypse**

**Author: stormyabyss**

**Rating: T**

**Genre: Romance/Adventure/Action**

**Setting: Post-Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince**

**Summary: Harry Potter travels to the ends of the world to finally fulfill his destiny. Along his journey, he breaks and makes new relationships as his feelings for Hermione deepen.**

**A/N: Sorry about the long wait. I will post two chapters today instead. **

**Enjoy.**

**I want to thank cyn2100 for reviewing. **

* * *

**Chapter III: The Past Beginning**

"Who controls the past controls the future. Who controls the present controls the past. "  
-George Orwell

* * *

Harry was brought back to reality by a sharp pinch. "Ouch…bloody…"

"Harry, focus. Look what Snape and Wormtail are doing." Hermione felt the urge to pour water on Harry, knowing that it would be somewhat successful at holding his attention even if it would be only for a few minutes.

"Sorry, Hermione. What has been going on?"

"Well, Snape and Wormtail tried to summon something. I don't know what, but I don't think it worked since nothing happened."

"Wait, Harry, I think something huge is coming this way." Ron whispered hoarsely and turned a sickening white.

Harry twisted towards the left, straining his ears to hear what Ron had just heard, and his efforts were not disappointed as an enormous vehicle swerved around the corner at the narrow end of the streets before spinning precariously onto the street the trio was situated on.

Out of the shadows emerged a tall, red, two-decked bus—the Knight Bus. It stopped to a screeching halt in front of the trio, and out of the bus stepped Stan Shunpike, the bus' attendant. Stan flicked his eyes back and forth, searching for some sign of existence. Upon his return flick, his eyes were met with those of Snape and Wormtail, although he didn't know who they were.

Snape stepped forward in his disguise. "Mr. Stanley, I presume. My companion and I just so happened to find ourselves in a dilemma. We were searching for reports on the famous Harry Potter when my companion here led us on to this street. Since then, we have been lost. If it is of no trouble, will you be so kind as to lend us a ride back to the Leaky Cauldron."

To say Harry was astonished by Snape's sudden act of courtesy was a downright lie.

Stanley considered the two men before him before stepping aside and permitting them to enter. "All right. Ernie will drop you fellows at the Leaky Cauldron. But, the trip will cost you…let me see…" he tapped some keys on the device tied around his neck, "…two sickles."

Snape looked at the bus attendant as if he were about to blast the man and take over the bus himself. In the end, he yielded and tossed two sickles at Stanley's feet. Snape brushed pass Ernie with an air of arrogance as he walked to the back of the bus with Wormtail closely shuffling behind.

Stanley murmured to himself. "Humph…should have never let those two on this bus. One looks like a downright coward while the other is way too arrogant for his own good…" Before closing the door, he turned towards Snape's direction and asked bitterly, "Do you have any luggage?"

"If I did, it would be of no concern to you. Now hurry up and drop us off at the Leaky Cauldron before I take those two sickles back." Snape looked about ready to hex everything in reach, but instead, he chose to cross his arms and stare back at Stanley with clear malice.

Stanley reluctantly closed the doors of the bus as Ernie stomped on the pedal. With that, the Knight Bus disappeared into the night at lightning speed.

"What was that all about?" Ron was clearly perplexed. This was all too much for him.

"I don't have the slightest idea…but that doesn't matter right now. We have to hurry before someone catches us." Harry felt immensely uneasy at Snape's and Wormtail's peculiar act, but he knew there were still more important things at hand. "It's that cottage over there. We'll creep in from the back so there'll be less chance someone will see us."

Harry stood up, with Ron in tow, and was about to emerge from the bushes when he stopped in mid-stride.

"Harry…"

"What is it Hermione?"

"Are you sure you want to go back there? I don't think much is left of it…"

"'Mione," he whispered lowly so Ron wouldn't hear, "I have to go back there. It's just my gut feeling. I want to start from the beginning…from here…from Godric's Hollow…from my past…


	4. The Late Home

**Disclaimer: All characters and items of the magical world belong to the talented Mrs. J. K. Rowling**

**I only own parts of the plot of the story **

**Title: Harry Potter and the Apocalypse**

**Author: stormyabyss**

**Rating: T**

**Genre: Romance/Adventure/Action**

**Setting: Post-Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince**

**Summary: Harry Potter travels to the ends of the world to finally fulfill his destiny. Along his journey, he breaks and makes new relationships as his feelings for Hermione deepen.**

**A/N: This chapter won't be so exciting. It is basically a bridge between the last and the next chapter. So please bear with me.**

* * *

**Chapter IV: The Late Home**

"Home is the nicest word there is. "  
-Laura I. Wilder

* * *

Light footsteps rebounded back and forth on the cracked pavement of Godric's Hollow. Shadowy figures glided back and forth against the dark canvas, all the while the prying eyes of night creatures looked on. A light wind picked up and tousled a pile of fallen leaves nearby as a throng of rats scurried out of the sewage system.

"Ron, quit shuffling your feet like that. Someone will hear us…"

"I'm trying, mate. It's not easy considering the position I'm in."

"We have no choice. Would you rather stay under the cloak or do you want to get caught before we even get there?"

"Will you two stop bickering?" Hermione hissed exasperatedly, "Harry…look…I think we're here." Hermione slightly pointed at the building before them.

The trio followed her finger to see a cottage standing alone among a horde of rubble and debris. One side of the house was still raised, while the other had a few broken planks of wood encasing the once-standing parameters of the premise. Half of the roof had been blown off, and evidently, it had landed just minutes after the launch only to slam downwards on the remains of the front porch. A fallen tree swayed precariously on its remaining hinges, threatening to fall backwards and slam the inhabitants below when least expected. Charred pieces of grass marked a broken pavement leading up to the wrecked front porch, and then to the ash-ridden door.

"Harry…maybe it's not too late to turn…" Hermione whispered tentatively, as if wishing she were anywhere but there. She seemed to be lost at words, not knowing whether this was all a nightmare or not.

"Mate…are you all right?"

Harry was completely distressed, he was confused, and not to mention depressed. He knew what he was putting himself into when he chose to visit the remains of his parents' house. He knew that barely anything remained of it…but…

"Harry…Harry…are you all right?"

Even though he had been counting down to this exact moment, this moment when he would set his eyes for the first time in over ten years upon his infant home, he was still unprepared for what was lying before him. He fought to suppress any tears…he was too strong for that…he refused to shed tears that would go to waste.

"Mate…I think we should go back." Ron whispered anxiously, "Maybe some other time…you know….when you feel better."

"No." Harry was not going to walk away from this. He had wanted to be here for so long now. He was not going to turn back just because he couldn't control his emotions. "We'll go in. Keep your wands out."

Harry proceeded to enter the house through the back by forcing entry into the bushes separating the front from the backyard. Ron and Hermione turned uncertainly towards one another, not knowing if their friend was crazy, or was just too brave for his own good. Nonetheless, they followed as would loyal friends do.

The trio slid through the bushes one after the other while Harry stood in the backyard, eyeing for any signs of peculiarities. As Ron jolted his head out of a particularly stubborn bush, he turned swiftly towards one side and took in the surroundings.

"Bloody…"

"Ouch. Stupid hair…"

Harry turned around to find Hermione being caught in one of the bushes, her brown locks of hair clinging relentlessly onto a tiny branch. "Hold still Hermione." He hurried over and gently took one of her locks between his thumb and pointer. He unwound the yarns of hair out of the branch before pulling her through without anything else of hers being caught.

"Thanks, Harry. Stupid hair…should have tied it up."

"Hey mate. Look at all the trash on the ground. Must have been a big explosion…"

Harry immediately sobered up at this, having been reminded of that fateful night. It was a big explosion, a huge explosion…

"Ron, you bloody git. Can't you at least try to have an ounce of consideration?" Hermione sighed annoyingly. Honestly, that Weasley can be so dense at times. Didn't he know Harry was already struggling to forget about all of this? She obviously needed to have a little chat with Ron sometime soon.

"Oh…sorry mate…I didn't mean it that way…you know…"

"Forget about it…let's just go in before we get caught." With that, Harry turned around and led the group towards the back door of his late home.


	5. The Flesh and Blood of Gryffindor

**Disclaimer: All characters and items of the magical world belong to the talented Mrs. J. K. Rowling**

**I only own parts of the plot of the story **

**Title: Harry Potter and the Apocalypse**

**Author: stormyabyss**

**Rating: T**

**Genre: Romance/Adventure/Action**

**Setting: Post-****Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince**

**Summary: Harry Potter travels to the ends of the world to finally fulfill his destiny. Along his journey, he breaks and makes new relationships as his feelings for Hermione deepen.**

**A/N: I must apologize for the long wait. This chapter had been written centuries ago, but with all the finals and last-minute things to do, I have not been completely faithful in my updates. On the bright side, this chapter is not as insufferable as the latter. The next chapter won't take as long to update, seeing as how half of it is already done. And if anyone is wondering why the Harry and Hermione pairing is forever dragging, then rest assured that everything will come in due course. Thanks for bearing with me and enjoy!**

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**Chapter V: The Flesh and Blood of Gryffindor**

"Every man is his own ancestor, and every man his own heir. He devises his own fortune, and he inherits his own past. "  
-Francis Herbert Hedge

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The house was pitch black—a canvas of black strokes with wild streaks of red and brown haphazardly splashed onto edges and corners left forgotten for ages. How long the place was left untouched, only time will tell. Edges of the wall left still standing had sheets of wall-paper slowly falling off, giving way to mold-covered specks. Debris and shattered glass littered the floor here and there, threatening to rip the skin of anyone who dared trespass the dwelling. 

Harry slipped warily into his old home, tossing glances every so often at the backyard for fear of some unknown stranger following the trio. He turned around and took in all that was presented in front of him. Harry was mortified to say the least; but he also felt a certain sense of dread and sadness. This was his home, his home, the very place where Voldemort destroyed in his thirst for power. If Harry were sure of anything, he was certain that Voldemort will pay…that snake will pay for everyone he has hurt…for James and Lily…for Sirius…for Cedric…for Dumbledore…

Ron and Hermione stood back at a distance, absorbing their surroundings while also paying close attention to their friend's response.

Hermione could tell by the rigidity of Harry's pose that he could not be doing any worse. She knew that whenever he stands like this, whenever he stands in his statue-like pose, that he was not to be crossed. Hermione carefully stepped behind him and placed a light hand on his shoulder as if to relax him in the physical and mental sense.

"Harry…we're here for you. Ron and I won't leave you…ever."

Harry cringed slightly at her touch—not out of annoyance, but out of uneasiness. It felt oddly out of place for her to be so soft, so caring, so intimate…especially in this place, this setting, this prison hold. "I'm fine 'Mione. Thanks…I was just thinking…"

"Hey mate, should we search the rooms to see if there are any clues?" Ron was obviously feeling quite uncomfortable to be invading the very place where Voldemort had committed his most famous murder—or not—yet. He wanted to get out as quickly as possible—to be honest, he wanted to leave at that exact moment. But being a Weasley, and a loyal friend at that, he would not desert Harry when his best mate needed him the most. He could be dense sometimes, but he still knew what his duties were, and he wasn't about to dispose of them just yet.

"I guess we should search the rooms. Maybe we'll find something there…I doubt there will be much left…but, knowing my mother, she probably would have hidden something here before…well…before that night." In truth, Harry was unsure of what to do next. Before, when he was still traipsing around the Burrow, he had had all of this mission planned out to the fine details. He planned how they would enter the house from the backyard, how they would come inside, how they would split up and search the rooms, and how they would leave in triumph having found successful clues to Voldemort's demise. Well…obviously his plan was flawed, or else he wouldn't be standing here with no idea of what to do next.

Hermione though, had a plan as she always would in these situations. "I don't think it would be too wise to split up. Doing so would be highly risky. Maybe we should just search each room together…I don't know…two of us could search the room, while one of us could stand guard…"

"Right, right. That would work…thanks Hermione…" Harry was honestly relieved at having Hermione there with him. Otherwise, he would either still be standing where he was just then, or he would have already been killed by some stranger mistaking him for a stray Death Eater. "Alright, let's head down the hallway then. Someone should turn around and keep a watch on our backs."

Ron nodded and turned around with his wand jabbed rigidly in front of him, all the while following closely behind Hermione and Harry down the shady hallway. "Blimey, Harry…I honestly believe you're crazy for going here in the first place…"

Harry, knowing Ron was speaking out of fear and tension, chose to ignore his blunt comment. He led the group down the hallway before stopping at the nearest room on his right. He poked his wand into the room, illuminating its dark corners with the light protruding from his wand, as he slowly moved his head around the door and looked inside. The room seemed to still be intact…or more intact than most of the house. It didn't look like much of anything was disturbed in the room that night, so having decided that it was safe to enter, he moved forward, pulling Hermione and Ron along with him.

Harry and Hermione began searching every corner and creases in the room, turning up furniture, tossing random objects here and there in their eagerness to find some sort of clue. Ron, however, chose to stand near the door and stand guard for any odd movements besides those of his friends. So far, they had made no progress, unless flying furniture and wood could be considered as progress.

"Bloody plank…will you move already." Harry hissed frustratingly at the adamant plank of wood blocking a certain drawer in the very back of the closet. "Can't possibly budge at all…dumb…bloody……" Harry cursed profusely under his breath, hissing all the while at this frustrating plank. What in the world…did this stupid piece of decaying tree have some magic that makes this task impossible?

"Harry…calm down. Let me see." Hermione found it very curious that this certain piece of wood would not budge in the least bit. She poked her head every which way, carefully eyeing the wood as if it were some rare piece of artifact. Finally, after what seemed like ages to Harry, she stood back and bobbed her head back and forth.

Ron stood a near the door, observing Hermione out of the corner of his eyes. He was completely dumbfounded as to what would take her this long to stare at a piece of wood. "Hermione…will you hurry up already. Haven't got all night you know…"

"Shush, Ron. You think you can do any better."

"I bet I can."

"Well…why don't you give it a try then…"

"Fine, I…"

"Quit it." Harry snapped. This was no time for their petty arguments. "Ron, quit provoking her. Hermione, do you know how to get rid of that plank of wood?"

"I think so…but it will need a really powerful reducto. I believe if we both cast the spell together, it would work to our advantage."

Harry nodded and approached Hermione's side. "Alright. I'm ready."

"On the count of three…"

Harry nodded obediently… "One…"

Ron, having forgotten his task of watch guard, turned impatiently around and jabbed his head forward to see what the displacement of the wood would reveal.

"Two…"

Harry was sweating bullets. Could there be something really valuable…could it help them find the horcruxes. Could it…could it…

"Three…"

"Reducto!" Harry and Hermione bellowed at the top of their lungs.

Huge beams of energy shot through their wands, and out through the tips before directly hitting the heart of the wooden plank, completely shattering it into crumbles of wood shavings. A mushroom of shavings flew into the air, making the trio bend over just to prevent their eyes from getting a healthy share of raw dust. As the dust subsided, Harry turned back to face the closet. It was mostly the same as before, but now, there was a curious box sitting in the corner of the debilitated drawer.

Harry reached out towards the box, but Hermione yanked his arms back forcefully.

"Harry…wait just a minute. You don't know what's in that box…it could be dangerous."

Ron by now was neither standing guard at the door nor was he paying any attention to the hallway. All he was concerned about was what was in that box.

"Hermione..."

"Harry, no…I don't think we should open it just yet…."

"But Hermione…I know what I'm doing. Promise…"

"Harry…"

"Hermione…if it makes you feel any better, I will check it first…all right?"

"Fine…but just be careful."

Harry nodded anxiously and turned back to his object. He poked his wand forward and having already observed it carefully, he said, "diffindo!"

The spell shot forth from Harry's wand and met the box in the drawer, slashing its top off with a dangerous flick of magic. The trio stepped forward cautiously and peered into the box.

There, in the very center of the box, laid a silver pendant with a crimson-red, claw-like stone hanging off the bottom of the trinket. Harry felt an odd surge of power rush through him…he couldn't quite place this exact feeling. It was as if he knew this pendant…as if he had worn it before. He could feel his fingers itching to grasp hold of the ornament…he could feel power radiating from the inner core of the pendant itself. To say the least, he felt hungry…he wanted to touch that thing…he wanted to have…he wanted for it to be his, and only his…

"Mate, are you alright?" Ron was feeling anxious towards his friend's change of demeanor. Just minutes ago, Harry was acting…well…he was acting like Harry. Now…Harry…Harry…he just felt different somehow, just different.

Hermione couldn't discern this newfound sensation in Harry. She could feel heat, and was it power?, radiating off of him. She could see a burning passion in his eyes…this passion only made him look even more peculiar. His soft, emerald eyes were now blazing, green orbs that had a great magnitude of its own—to be exact, his eyes were like pools of emerald, so deep, so zealous, so…

Harry stepped forward away from his friends and extended his arm towards the pendant. This time, Hermione made no move to stop him either out of her own curiosity or out of shock at Harry's behavior. He was inches away from the object…he budged his hands slightly forward…and he took it in his grasp.

The feeling that he felt just then was unimaginable, unexplainable…He could feel more power rushing through him…he felt oddly energized…he felt so good…The pendant seemed to glow in Harry's grasp as if it claimed Harry as its personal owner. Harry didn't fail to notice this either, for his grasp on the pendant became even tighter.

Harry turned around to show his friends the pendant. Ron eagerly pushed forward and prodded his face near the edge of the stone. "Bloody, Harry. This thing looks really powerful…do you think it was your parents'?"

Harry honestly had no idea if it was his parents' or not. It only made sense that it was, for why else would his parents have it in their house. He moved his gaze towards Hermione to see that she was staring intently at the pendant. "Hermione…what do you think this is?"

Hermione carefully extended her hand and lightly took the pendant between her fingers. She traced the object back and forth before settling on a certain something.

Harry leaned forward to get a better view of what she was pressing on. "What is it, Hermione?"

"Ya, Hermione. What _is_ it?" Ron was so anxious that his cloak was slipping off his shoulders.

"Harry…look at this. There's a 'G' on engraved into the stone…do you know what that means…?"

Harry's mind was racing at light speed. Was it really…could it be…did this, this pendant belong to Godric Gryffindor? "Hermione, Godric Gryffindor's…this could be his, his special item."

"I bet anything it is, Harry. But do you know what it also means…? Do you Harry?"

"Hermione, just tell us what it means already." Ron might as well wet his pants already.

"Harry…you are Godric Gryffindor's descendant. You are his heir…his blood…his equal…Voldemort's equal…"

To Harry, this was all too much. This revelation…he…plain, old Harry…how could he be Gryffindor's descendant? Harry took the pendant from Hermione's hand and brushed his finger across the engraved 'G.' As he did so, he could feel another jolt of power rush through his fingers and all the way into his body.

Harry then knew, he knew with every ounce of his being that he was Godric Gryffindor's descendant—his heir. He unclasped the pendant slightly and pulled it over his head to let it lightly slip down the front of its shirt. The crimson stone glowed a bright red as it finally rested around the neck of its rightful owner.

Just then, hundreds of miles away, Voldemort, the former Tom Riddle, jolted upward in his chair as his head started to burn with searing hot pain. He could feel the Slytherin in him starting to cower in fear…he could feel the great Salazar Slytherin shying from an odd, almost lion-like, power. "Potter...I will kill you yet…"

At the same time, millions of miles away, in a faraway village of Wheatley, England, in the house of an elderly woman of the name Hestia Keddington, a certain golden locket glowed a bright green. The locket, with its peculiar tracings, shook vigorously as the emblazoned 'S' on its visage took on an ominous, vicious green as if something inside it was forcing exit.


End file.
